


Cinderella, You Forgot Your Shirt

by Nerdoftheworld



Series: Stucky Shot Party [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Amputee Bucky Barnes, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Football Player!Steve, Loner!Bucky, M/M, Verbal Abuse, letterman jackets, mansions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:09:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4088107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdoftheworld/pseuds/Nerdoftheworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve didn't know what to expect when the kid in his bio class paid him fifty dollars to pretend to be his boyfriend but he certainly didn't expect this</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cinderella, You Forgot Your Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> This was suppose to be up yesterday but I had company over and couldn't finish 
> 
> Day 4: Okay but imagine person A of your otp picking up sleepy person B and carrying them to bed and person B just snuggles their face into person A’s shoulder you know on second thought don’t imagine that + fake dating

“So,” Steve starts out, hands stuffed in his letterman jacket while he gazes up at the mansion before him. It’s a beautiful house, don’t get him wrong, but it seems a bit much from the other houses around the block. Where everyone has at least a bit of modesty, the Barnes’ mansion is obviously a declaration of wealth and nobility. “Run by me again why you paid me fifty dollars to be your boyfriend?” 

 

The brunette next to him shrugs, shedding the plaid jacket from around his shoulders and leaving it in the passenger seat of Steve’s Jeep balled up half-heartedly. “My ex is the son of my parent’s friend. Cheated on me with some bitch so this is my way as revenge,” he pulls out a cloth from the back of his tight fitting pants, giving it a quick sniff before turning to Steve with it in his real hand. “Hold still,” he mutters into Steve’s ear before reaching up with the cloth and moving it over the blonde’s neck, arms and shirt. The smell it leaves behind is musky and nicotine heavy; almost the exact same smell Steve got a whiff of when Bucky first walked up to him at the last period of the day. “I want Brock to think we’ve been spending so much time together that you actually smell like me now,” 

 

Steve makes a face as Bucky dabs the cloth on his chin, closest to his lips as he can get without getting the taste of it in his mouth but he can’t say the same for the actual smell. “Uh-huh … and if they ask how we met?” 

 

“We met in Bio. You helped me with homework after school, realized that I’m actually pretty cool and then we made out behind the bleachers,” Bucky sighs as he takes one of Steve’s hands to run the cloth along his palm before Steve yelps and rips it away from him, holding it at his side. “What?” 

 

“Why on my hand?” 

 

“So he thinks we had sex,” 

 

Steve gaps at the teen in front of him while looking from the rag and to Bucky. He really hopes that the cloth is cut up from an old shirt because if Steve finds out that there is something extra on it, he’d actually consider giving Bucky’s money back and finding another way to get the money for his supplies. Bucky seems to understand what Steve is thinking because a smirk breaks out on his face as he holds the cloth up to Steve’s nose. “Oh my god, does it even smell like that?” 

 

“Ew, why do you think I know what it smells like?!” Steve bats Bucky’s hand away, rubbing his hands together. “I’m going to choose to trust you on this, but if I find out otherwise, so help me, Barnes …” 

 

“Relax, it’s just a square from my pillow case,” Bucky says with an eyeroll that kind of gets on Steve’s nerve but he chooses to ignore it, instead choosing to run his hands through his hair to make sure it’s nice and combed. Bucky catches him doing it, and reaches up his own hand to part it better. “This is why princes always have groomers,” 

 

Steve grimaces, trying to get as far away from Bucky’s bicep. “You’re the one that lives in a literal mansion,” he argues, “Look! You have a baby angel peeing into your fountain!” 

 

Bucky snorts right in Steve’s face, shaking his head as limp strands move around his sharpened jaw line. His lips are pretty close to Steve’s at the moment, only a thumb distance away so they are sharing each other’s breath. Then Bucky pulls away. “That thing has been here because I was,” Bucky jams a thumb in it’s direction and then retreats the hand back to cross over his chest. “And besides, I’m not the one that looks like I’m about to wake up Sleeping Beauty,” 

 

“About that,” Steve flicks Bucky’s ear, smiling when the shorter male lets out a yelp of surprise. “Why don’t you look like a prince? You’re house practically looks like a palace,” and he’s right. Steve can clearly see that this house looks almost like the kind of manor someone from a Modern Downton Abbey would live in; large windows, balconies, rose bushes, even a fucking limousine parked in the driveway. Instead, when Steve went to pick Bucky up from his apartment (He’ll have to ask about that later), the brunette climbed in with a ratty pair of combat boots and a shirt that has obviously seen better days judging by the small holes that litter it around the hem and collar. Honestly, Steve was half prepared to show up at some frat party and hold this guy’s hand just so Bucky can make his ex jealous. 

 

Bucky sighs, pushing his hair over his shoulder without even touching it. “It’s a prison pretending to be a castle,” 

 

Steve nods along, watching a couple of birds land in the fountain to take a small sip of probably carbonated water for all he knew. Shrugging out of his jacket, he smiles when Bucky arches his eyebrow at him in confusion before Steve takes his left wrist and pushes through one of the arm holes and repeats for the other arm. “Call it a cliche’ but I kinda like it when the other players’ girlfriends wear their jackets,” he muses as he helps straighten out his own name on the back of it. 

 

The jacket is big on Bucky. The cuffs cover half of his hands when extended, and the bright white and blue stand out presently against Bucky’s dark outfit. It’s big enough to completely cover the brunette's torso if buttoned up, his legs looking like straws. He looks positively adorable. 

 

“Aw, you look so cute,” 

 

“Shut up,” 

 

“Like a little kid,” 

“I’m older than you, oh my god,” 

 

Steve shrugs, wrapping his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and pulling him flush against Steve’s side. He glances around to see if any other car is there besides theirs and the limo parked in the driveway but all he can see is the lavish property and the blush creeping up Bucky’s neck. With one little shake, Steve starts walking up the pathway and into the Barnes’ mansion. 

 

Once inside, Steve really tried to not make his jaw drop by the sheer amount of riches he sees just in the entrance. A chandelier that hands over head probably bigger than Steve, polished floors that squeak with every step of his sneakers, two staircases that join up to make a balcony and furniture that seem antique but have a lovely elegance to them. All in all, Steve and Bucky stick out like sore thumbs amongst all of it. Bucky, however, starts to guide them both towards the living room where a woman sits at the piano writing something down on the notes and a man rests on the couch with a newspaper. Steve almost busts out laughing at how much they look like stereotypical rich people in the 50’s. 

 

The woman, who Steve assumes is Mrs. Barnes, is gorgeous. Long chestnut strands were pulled back into a french braid and draped down her back, stopping at where her emerald sundress’ dip ended. When she turned to face both of them, her dark crimson lips pulled into a smile to flash perfect white teeth and showcasing a dimple near her cheeks. “Oh! There you are, James! Dear, come meet James’ boyfriend,” she chimes in a voice that Steve can only describe as regal and sweet. 

 

The man that resides on the couch looks nothing like Bucky. His face is rectangular, blonde hair sitting upon his head while his finger taps against the printed paper. His lips are pressed into a fine line while he looks Steve up and down like a hungry vulture waiting for the moment to rip him to shreds with his sharp beak. Even Bucky seems to shrink under the gaze. The man sighs and puts the paper aside, getting up to stand near Bucky’s mother. He’s very old compared to her. 

 

“Hello there, I’m Alexander Pierce, James’ father,” he bellows, holding his hand out to shake Steve’s hand with a bone crunching grip. Steve doesn’t hear him right but he is sure he catches Bucky mutter “step” under his breath. “And this is his mother, Winifred,” 

 

Mrs. Barnes nods at her own name, shaking Steve’s hand too. “We’ve heard so much about you! It’s great to finally meet the famous Steve Rogers!” she breathes with an eyeroll, her whole aura bright and open. Her other hand moves around to help make her words seem more vivid. “I can’t tell you how much time he spends watching football in his room to impress you,” 

 

“Mom,” Bucky whines next to him and Winifred laughs, resting a hand against Bucky’s shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Perhaps I’ve said too much. I’ll go make you boys some snacks!” Mrs. Barnes disappears into the kitchen before Steve can get another word out, left only with Bucky and Mr. Pierce. 

 

“I hate when she does that,” the older man mutters, looking at the archway of the kitchen where Mrs. Barnes disappeared to. “Constantly talking and making a fool of herself. Sometimes I wonder how someone as stupid as she can manage surviving in this world,” 

 

Steve tries to not his intake of breath too noticeable. Growing up with a single mother, Steve has had his fair share of men constantly downing on his mother for anything; having Steve walk home and staying by himself while she worked, daring to refuse help from anyone, and for telling anyone who thought that giving Steve up was a ‘best choice’ to shove it. He’s seen everything his mother battled alone and if Pierce is Bucky’s step-dad, then he’s sure that Mrs. Barnes has been through the same. 

 

“Sir, I don’t think that’s a nice thing to say about your wife, especially behind her back and in front of Bucky,” 

 

“Hm? Oh yes, I almost forgot James was here. I was wondering why no one was complaining and yelling,” Mr. Pierce took a sip from his glass of Scotch, waving towards Bucky. “You boys don’t get into any trouble now,” and then he’s gone once he’s stepping into a room that Steve thinks might be his study. 

 

The rest of the stay at the Barnes’ (Pierce’s?) mansion was tense to say the least. Mrs. Barnes’ smile was sometimes so forced that it scared Steve just to see her eyes so lifeless and devoid of happiness but the moment she laid eyes on Bucky, her mask broke to reveal an actually genuine smile when she ruffled his hair affectionately. She looks at Steve like she’s already planning their marriage and Steve has to remind himself that he’s just here for a party and not to get attached to the Barnes’. Bucky tells him that his parents are divorced, after his mother couldn’t handle his father being constantly away overseas. They ended up losing their house and living with his grandparents for a few years with some visits from his father whenever he’s in the States, who would take him to all sorts of places and tell him stories of what he’s up to in the war. He’s pretty sure they still love each other but the issues they had is too big to get over, which is when his mother met millionaire Alexander Pierce, CEO rival of Stark Industries. 

 

They spend most of the day in the parlor, far from Pierce’s office and watching a ton of movies on the big screen above the fireplace. No matter how many movies they watch, however, there’s no mention of this ex showing up for the ‘party’ that Bucky told him about it and everytime he asks about it, Bucky just deflects the conversation. The time passes quickly and by the middle of The Purge: Anarchy, he gets a text from his mother asking to bring a carton of milk whenever he decides to come home. Bucky’s asleep next to him, leaning against the armrest of the couch with his long limbs half on Steve’s lap and half falling off. His jaw is enveloped in the collar of Steve’s letterman and if Steve takes a quick picture of him like that no one has to know. 

 

Mrs. Barnes walks into the room, picking up her coat from the rack near the door. She pauses when she sees Bucky asleep and rolls her eyes comically. “Typical of him to fall asleep with company over,” she whispers, bending down to push his matted hair from his face. “My little boy,” she straightens up, looking at Steve. “I hope this isn’t too much to ask of you, but I need to go see something to do with my mother and I would hate to wake James when he’s finally asleep,” Mrs. Barnes sighs. “Poor dear is constantly riddled with nightmares and often forgets to take off his prosthetic at night. That’s why Alex put him in his own apartment you know. You wouldn’t mind carrying him up to his room, would you?” 

 

Steve shakes his head, resting his hand against Bucky’s knee and rubbing the joint with his thumb. Mrs. Barnes nods back and puts on her coat. “Well, I hope to see you again soon. Bye, Steve,” she gives a little wave and leaves the house as quickly as she entered the room. Bucky stirs next to him and adjusts his body accordingly, even though not two minutes later Steve is snaking his arms under Bucky’s shoulders and legs and lifting him up to his chest while Bucky hums in his sleep. Though Bucky is relatively light, Steve still tries to navigate through the furniture as easily as he can without dropping Bucky or potentially hurting him in anyway. “Who’s the prince now, hm?”

 

The brunette buries his face into Steve’s shoulder by the time they get to the staircase, nuzzling it even though his nose twitches from inhaling Steve’s natural scent. “S … Steve?” he slurs, not bothering to open his eyes. “What’re …?” 

 

“Taking you to bed, Buck, it’s okay. Go back to sleep,” Steve smiles down at the sleeping man, watching him nod and drift off with his mouth hanging open. A sprinkle of drool comes from his mouth but Steve couldn’t care less. The house has a ton of rooms that can be Bucky’s but judging from how one room in particular has a sign with a ‘J’ on it, he figures that should be Bucky’s. 

 

Laying him down on his bed, Steve unlaces the boots from Bucky’s feet and tugs them off as gently as possible. He reaches up to push his own jacket off of Bucky’s shoulders to get to the strap of Bucky’s prosthetic but the brunette stops him with his right hand, coming up at grabbing Steve’s wrist. “I can do it,” he slurs, sitting up tiredly while his hand fumbles with the strap across his shoulder. “Thanks. You can go home if you want, I’m pretty tired. Um, yeah, see you Monday,” 

 

Steve smiles and plants a brief kiss on Bucky’s forehead, standing up and making his leave. “For what it’s worth,” he says, turning to look at Bucky. “Brock is a stupid man for letting you go,”and with that he makes a mad dash for the entrance, his face hot and his stomach churning. The sun is setting when he gets outside, the sky painted and hung up to dry while he tries to unlock his door as quickly as possible. And when he’s settled, he finds Bucky’s plaid shirt thrown on the seat of his passenger seat. 

  
Looks like Cinderella left his glass slipper behind.    



End file.
